


On the Dornish Mountains

by Tessa_H_Dillinger



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar won, Cute, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows nothing, Procreative Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, housewife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessa_H_Dillinger/pseuds/Tessa_H_Dillinger
Summary: Formerly "Just Get Inside Me."In their youths, Jon Targaryen and Arianne Martell found themselves in a young lover's quarrel. Now, Jon is sent to Dorne and must take a wife. Only one girl can be his perfect match.But can Jon survive all the Arianne love?Or, Arianne isn't the heiress of Dorne. As the second born child, she hates ruling and just wants to be a sexy housewife for Jon, and he has to deal with all her lusts.This fic is a smut-factory.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’ve done well, my son,” King Rhaegar said to his second son, Jon Targaryen. It was a bright morning in the Red Keep, and the king had called his young son into his solar to talk politics with him.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Jon replied, bowing.

“Call me Father, for the last time, Jon,” Rhaegar laughed, “You’ve earned after what you did at Blackhaven.”

Jon, as a representative of his father, had been sent to find some rebel lords in the Stormlands, who were trying to take some land from their overlords. It started with a small battle, but ended when Jon brought about a peaceful ending to it. A small debate, on a nearby hill, ended the conflicts there. The Compromise Maker, some had called the Prince, while others called him the Justman, after the old Riverland kings.

At the age of seven-and-ten, and the second son to king, Jon could have been bitter. He could have hated Aegon, but he did not, for his mother taught him to love, and his family was worthy of it.

“Thank you Father,” Jon said, moving his black hair out of his face, trying to appear as professional as possible. He was wearing his princely cape, red and white clothing with a direwolf and dragon sewn in them. “But I must ask, why have you called me here?”

“You know what will be happening by the next moon,” Rhaegar replied.

“Of course, Aegon’s wedding to Rhaenys,” Jon said. It was plain as day that they would marry. The realm may have expected the Tyrells, or even the Tarlys to get a princess through Aegon, but Jon knew how his siblings felt about each other. And how understanding King Rhaegar could be.

“Aye, and you also know how it has upset some people,” Rhaegar replied, “The Tarlys are listening less to me, I had to sent an emissary myself to prevent them from threatening Blackmont.”

_Land disputes. Always land disputes._

Even on his occasional trips to Dorne with his family, Jon found that the Dornish marches were ever hostile and ready to defend against all non-Dornish invaders. He remembered his first day crossing those lines, hearing the Dornish accents, the rebellious vibrant spirits of those people. Especially one…

Jon shook his head. He could settle disputes with lords of the Stormlands, but the Dornish? He was lucky he didn’t have to.

“I am aware,” Jon said.

“Good,” Rhaegar said, “That is why I am sending you to Dorne.”

_Fuck._

“I… Father,” Jon started, “I believe Aegon or even Rhaenys would be better suited-“

“Better suited for what?” he suddenly heard, and Jon turned around, seeing Rhaenys, the beautiful, tall Dornish girl, with her mother behind her.

“Elia!” Rhaegar said happily, “You have arrived rather early. Where’s Lya?”

“Still sleeping,” Elia said, with a chuckle, moving across the room to kiss her husband.

“And you didn’t think to wake her?” Rhaegar asked.

“She was rather… tired out,” Elia said, looking down, a little smile.

“Ok, ew,” Rhaenys said, then she looked at Jon, her face challenging, “Well, aren’t you happy?”

“Happy about what?” Jon asked. He was being sent to Dorne for gods’ sake, and that was where she was.

Rhaenys looked confused. “Father, have you not told him?”

“I hadn’t yet,” Rhaegar scoffed.

Rhaenys, ever the sarcastic princess, simply walked up to Jon. “You’re picking your betrothed today,” Rhaenys said.

Immediately, everything Jon thought flew out of his mind and he was left utterly lost. He felt uncertain, afraid, confused. Picking?

_Who picks their betrothed?_

“I,” Jon simply said.

Rhaenys smiled and laughed a bit. “That’s a funny look,” she said, “Is it because we all know who you’re thinking of?”

“Rhaeny,” Elia said, “You needn’t be so abrasive; Jon is fortunate to choose whoever he shall want. Except for the Tyrells, the overly sensitive bunch.”

Jon looked to his father, who seemed to forget him there.

“They would not like a second choice, surely,” Rhaegar said, “But I would not be surprised if they offered Margaery just the same.”

“My love,” Elia said, “That is now how it works. And Olenna won’t settle for it, the tired old bat.”

Jon was still trying to breathe.

“Wait, wait,” he said, calling everyone to attention, “I am picking my betrothed?”

Rhaenys sighed like it was the most boring question in the world. “Well, yes,” she said, “Father needs someone with the skills to end the Dornish marsh disputes. He had a Keep built for you and now you simply need a wife, if you are to choose.”

Rhaegar touched his daughter’s shoulder. “A bit simplified,” he said, “but that is that.” He turned to Jon. “You have served me well my son; you are to have your reward, but you must always continue to serve. Your mother was supposed to be here as well, but she is not the quickest to want to see her son go. Even last night she pleaded to let you remain a few more moons, but it is time.”

“So you built a Keep for me, gave me the choice of a wife, and chose to tell everyone but me?” Jon asked.

“It was, how do you say,” Elia looked for the word, “A surprise.”

“And don’t feel bad if you can only choose _you know who,_ little brother,” Rhaenys said, “You already have a special connection.”

Rhaegar left his daughter’s touch and looked back again at Jon, who was still overwhelmed. “Discuss this with your mother, and your brother, they shall help you collect your thoughts.”

 

The next two days involved Jon debating endless with Aegon. In the training fields, walking along the Red Keep, and riding through the Kingswood.

“Just pick her!” Aegon said, riding his over large horse, his silver hair bouncing as he stopped.

“But, it’s not like it ended well,” Jon replied.

“Did it end at all?” Aegon asked, as they found a good place to stop their horses and get off.

“I don’t know! She started yelling at me for saying I didn’t want to get married and I haven’t seen her since,” Jon replied, aghast.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve had experience with anyone else,” Aegon said, taking out his knife and picking up a few sticks.

“I’ve had experience,” Jon defended himself.

“Listen little brother,” Aegon said, “Last I remember, you two ran around the Maegor’s Holdfast like it was a Lysene pleasure house. Now that you have the excuse, or rather the duty to marry her, just do it.”

“What if I don’t want her?” Jon asked, as Aegon prepared a campfire.

Aegon simply looked up at Jon, his eyebrow raised.

“Ok, fine,” Jon said, looking away.

“All I’m saying is,” Aegon said, starting to strike his flint, “She’s special to you, and the only girl you’ve gotten that close with. She has yet to be married, which is odd for a woman her age. She’s waiting for you.”

Jon sighed. Aegon was right about everything. It was almost a year since he had last seen her, or even written to her. Yet she was on his mind often, and she always seemed ready to take him back, never leaving Dorne, or accepting betrothals.

“And my mother?” Jon asked, annoyance in his voice. Aegon finally started the fire, and he knelt down in the forest.

Aegon scoffed. “Now you’re just making excuses,” he said, “The only thing your mother hates is how she dresses, which, if I remember correctly, is something you love. Now sit down and let’s burn these frogs.”

 

It was a difficult decision. What would he say to her? Would he mention the betrothal first or would he ruin it? What if she found someone else?

His mother, though, was not the most illuminating source of relationship advice.

“Keep your arms up!” Lyanna yelled in the training yard.

They both wore their steel armour, and fought with practice sword. Jon always thought himself a good swordsman, until his mother disproved him.

Lyanna attacked, her metal face mask protecting her in her quick lunge. Jon parried and moved her to the side. A brief strike of swords and they were waiting again.

“Is she still wearing those prostitute outfits?” Lyanna asked, holding her sword up.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Mother, I came for your approval, not your opinion of her fashion.”

Lyanna struck and Jon blocked her, spinning her around until he trapped her. However, she swiped at his feet, making him jump from her.

“Fine then,” Lyanna said, in her thick northern accent, “But I am true to my point. I ain’t a prude but I know Dornish women don’t dress like her. It’s sensitive for a mother to see her son with someone who looks like a floosy.”

Jon attacked her, but she quickly struck his blade out of his hand. She put her blade to his neck and it was over. Jon sighed in relief. Lyanna removed her helmet, and her soft black hair fell out, her grey eyes icy.

“She’s not a floosy,” Jon said defensively.

“I know,” Lyanna replied, moving in to touch Jon’s face, “I just want to make sure my son isn’t being taken advantage of by an older woman. Truly though, if I must choose, then I can accept her as your betrothed. Or Dacey Mormont.”

Jon palmed his face. “Mother, Dacey hates me,” he said.

“So you joked about her family having sex with bears,” Lyanna said, “It’s like that they don’t say the same themselves.”

“Not in front of the King when he asks to meet his wife’s people,” Jon replied, “Not when you introduce them as the “bear fuckers!”

Lyanna laughed. “It still gets to me,” she chuckled, “You must have been three-and-ten, in your little rebellious phase.”

 

So it was decided. Jon wrote to Sunspear, in all the glorious detail he could think of. A letter was sent to her father to request her hand, and another to her to ask for his forgiveness, remind her of his love for her, and to ask her to marry him on the Isle of Faces, where he parents’ married.

A moon went by, and no word was heard. Jon, for a moment, thought to give her up. Mayhaps a Corbray or a Whent would be a good choice for him instead. Mayhaps Dacey had forgiven him.

That was until he heard a royal proclamation one morning. The King and his family was greeting a favored guest.

At the Great Hall, he saw dozens of Dornish guests, from the Qorgyles to the Ullers, to the Sandsnakes and the Prince of Dorne himself. They met with the King, who greeted them kindly.

But then Jon saw her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She was tall for a woman, but shorter than him. She would be twenty-and-two. Her thick, dark black hair was affront in it’s ostentatiousness, almost glowing, and her wore a deep purple dress with a large slit for her leg. She had the same golden snake bracelets on her arms, as well as the same gold wolf pendant necklace he had given her. Her eyes and eye make up were dark, and her skin a subtle brown to a beautiful olive complexion. Her figure had only become more womanly, with her breasts looming large even as they were more-or-less covered, and the curve of her body almost inhumanly, indecently drawn.

She looked up at him with a devious smile. Jon might have dropped dead.

Instead she ran up to him and jumped into his arms, saying “Let me see my husband!”

 _Gods damnit_.

Jon thought, before she forced him to pick her up. Her lustful, smooth body.

“Hi, Ari,” Jon finally spoke.

 

They were married on the Isle of Faces. After their final reuiniting, Jon remembered everything he loved about Arianne. Her cleverness, her beauty, her oddly attractive cruelness, and her endless ability to titillate him.

They had sex the first day they saw each other again, and every night since. Soon it was like old times, with them walking about, hands held, and faces too close for everyone’s comfort.

Arianne wore a decent dress for her wedding, and said her last wishes to her family. She might have travelled with them to Dorne, but she wanted to be in Jon’s carriage alone.

It was not a month before they made it to their Keep. Settled on the border of Dorne, the Reach and Stormlands, it was a hothead of tension. Everyone had fought hear at some point, from Aegon to Daeron, to the Blackfyres and Nymeria, to the Wyls and the Gardeners. Thus the King had sent with Jon two hundred warriors from the Riverlands, Vale and North, and their families, to settle the land as arbitrary actors.

It was a modest keep, mostly of stones and concrete, but was large enough to have a perimeter guard towers and it was seated decently close to the river, the only source of water in the Dornish mountains. Essentially, it was a keep at the heart of the only oases between the desert and northern mountains, but had enough greenland so people could farm, for themselves. Most food, would have to come from the Reach or Blackmont to the South.

As soon as they arrived, Jon observed the castle. It was small, and more like a fort than a living quarters, but was mayhaps five or four stories high.

When he and Arianne got out of their carriage, his new wife grabbed his chest. Jon could feel her heavenly melon breasts. It didn’t help that she was back in her normal, every day wear. A small, skimpy top, that exposed her back and stomach, and a long silk piece that covered her woman hood, with other her backside. The sides of her hips were totally exposed.

She whispered in his ear. “This is everything I’ve every wanted,” she said.

Jon’s cock got hard and he took her inside. Inside was a decent courtyard. He spoke with his head of guard, and requested the names of all the servants he would have under him. One of Arianne’s handmaid’s brought up their bags.

Then they reached the bedroom. Arianne jumped in it, and laid back in euphoria.

“It’s like a dream,” she said, “I was waiting for you.”

“I’m sorr-“ Jon started.

“Don’t apologize. We can move on from that my husband,” Arianne said, getting up and taking his hand. She made him sit on the bed. “Now you know I don’t want to run your stupid household or anything like that, right?”

Jon laughed. “I imagined so,” he said.

“Good, so I want to lay out what I want our marriage to be,” she said, “And don’t freak out this time. Because you’re stuck with me.” Jon nodded. “Now, I don’t want to be stuck in some boring run administering people or whatever. Don’t expect me to count your coins. I want to do what I have been doing, enjoying my life, the finer things, wine and reading. I may a few trips around the world. I’ll have some of my girls here to gossip with me. But I’ll try not to waste all your good favor. I want to be a good little housewife, without the work part. I’ll suck your cock to wake you, dress in even more scantily wear to draw your eye, and never stop trying to be creative in bed. I also like you to be a little aggressive. Push me around a little bit. Call me a silly wench or a whore and slap my arse to make me get you a drink. If I disappoint you, spank me like a disobedient little girl or slap my face. I also want to fulfill my other wifely duties, birthing you sons and daughters, whenever you might like, but preferably soon. So the way I see it: you go work for the day, and come back to let me satisfy you. I can massage your muscles if you like, but I really want you to fuck me as much as possible. Now, I believe we need to break this bed in, don’t you agree?”

If Jon was the same thirteen year old that first saw Arianne’s womanhood, he might have fainted. Instead, he simply kissed her hard, told her he loved her, and through her on the bed, with his hand around her neck.

Marriage was going to be awesome.


	2. Chapter 2

The seat of the cadet branch of Houses Targaryen and Nymeros Martell was between Blackmont, Horn Hill and Nightsong, on the borders of three kingdoms that always fought and were never easy to appease. Arianne named it Nymeria’s Peak, since it was the farthest Nymeria and Mors Martell fought to establish the kingdom of Dorne. On the tallest tower was a flag with their new sigil, a white dragon curling its tail around the Martell sun-and-spear. It was a pretty little keep, smaller than most and with only a few hundred citizens, but for Arianne it was boring.

Her husband was out solving some land dispute in the Stormlands. Arianne was left at the castle, where she stared out her chamber window to see the serene, green land around her and hear the running water of the nearby brook. The Red Mountains loomed out in the distance. Arianne sighed.

_Why does he even have to deal with the bloody marchers? They’re liars and brutes. The king should just take their lands away._

As a salty Dornishwoman, as a Martell, she knew never to trust the marcher lords. They loved only to kill and invade. That’s why the Dornish spearmen had to bleed them out on the passes.

_And we’ve become very good at it._

Arianne smiled and walked away from the window, stretching and deciding to finally get up.

“Jeyne,” Arianne called out.

Jeyne Fowler, her handmaiden, ran into her room and stopped. She grimaced.

“Run me a bath,” Arianne ordered.

Jeyne Fowler was a sensible choice of a handmaiden, as she was a daughter of House Fowler, a nearby Dornish house.

“You know, princess,” Jeyne said, “You can cover up sometimes. I don’t always want to see your tits.”

Arianne laughed. “You know I don’t wear any clothes to bed. Why wear anything between now and when I’m in the tub? Besides, Nymeria told me this is how you saw her most nights.”

Jeyne rolled her eyes and went to draw Ari a bath.

As she stepped in the water, her long black hair splayed out on the water. Arianne closed her eyes as Jeyne began washing her hair.

“Speaking of Nym,” Arianne said, “Do you know when she’s arriving? I’m growing bored without her.”

“She should be here by tomorrow,” Jeyne said, “Along with Obara and Tyene.”

“Finally,” Arianne said, “I was worried I wouldn’t see my cousins again.” Arianne looked at Jeyne with pouty lips. Jeyne knew exactly what she wanted.

“Yes, Princess, please tell me what bothers you,” Jeyne said with an eyeroll, continuing to wash Arianne’s hair.

“It’s just… married life isn’t what I thought it would be,” Ari said,

“Is the Prince not satisfying you?” Jeyne asked.

“No! Not at all!” Arianne said defensively. “I love Jon, I love him more than anything in the world.”

“Forgive me, didn’t mean to suggest,” Jeyne said.

“Well forget about your suggestion,” Ari said, “And by the way, he satisfies me very much. The aching between my legs is evident of that.” Ari smirked and Jeyne smirked back at her. They always teased each other for their bedding habits. “I mean, I love him. I love our life together, I love making him mine at night and telling him to come back to me in the morning. I love that he lets me do what I want and that I get to call myself the dragon’s wife. It’s just… I feel like something is missing.”

“You shall find it princess,” Jeyne said.

 

By the late afternoon, Arianne had received a letter from her mother. With joy, Arianne learned that she was finally returning to Dorne to see her and her brothers. She wrote back quickly, eager to see her after so many years.

Then Arianne received word that her husband had arrived. With a smile, asked Jeyne to direct him to their chambers. Arianne positioned herself on the large bed, propping up her head with her hand, and giving a sexy look.

This is one of the things she loved most. Welcoming Jon home looking sexy and welcoming. Her long, black voluminous hair laid on the bed, perfumed and shining. Her eyes were darkened with eye make-up and her lips plump and red. Her soft olive skin as almost entirely exposed. She wore one of her typical outfits: soft, translucent silks that covered her breasts, with other similar silks that covered her cunt and ass. What she loved most about such outfits was the visible effect it had on men, Jon in particular. He was always enraptured when he saw her in it, whether he was staring through the silk to see her dark, large nipples or her dark-haired womanhood, at her taut, exposed belly, or her dark, enchanting eyes. Just to make it even better she moved the silk pieces slightly so her cunt and nipples were visible.

Jon opened the door and stopped and stared.

_Even after two moons, he’s still a fool for my beauty._

Arianne’s confidence piqued and she flashed him a lusty smile.

“Welcome home, husband,” she said.

Jon stuttered.

Ari smiled and gave him a come-hither finger. “Come, I wish to give a conquering hero a proper welcome home.”

Jon approached her, his hardness straining in his pants.

_Now to take those off._

Jon stopped before her, and looked at her exposed cunt.

“Go ahead, touch,” Arianne encouraged him.

“My hands are dirty,” he said nervously, “I’m sweaty. I’ve been swinging a sword all day.”

_He’s still such a shy boy._

Ari remembered when they were young. When she as an older girl decided to pick on him incessantly, until she found herself attracted to him. It still surprised her that he kissed her first.

“Even better,” Ari said, standing up. She put her hands on his chest and turned him. Jon let her push him onto the bed. “But before we begin, I must perform my wifely duties.”

Jon laid back in the bed, letting her have her way with him. Ari smiled. Jon still couldn’t believe how insistent she was on this. But she made a rule that he got two blowjobs a day. One in the morning, so he feel confident to work, and one when he got back from work, to relax him. Jon laid back as Ari removed his trousers and smallclothes.

She took in the sight of his manhood. Hairy and hard and big. She almost purred. She licked his thighs, making Jon moan wildly. That made her wet. She then went to work. She grasped his cock and stroked it, first soft, then hard. Jon gritted his teeth.

Arianne stroked him for awhile, before she descended on his cock. She licked his cock head, but moved quickly to suck as much of it in as possible. Jon groaned. Arianne moved her head back and forth, moving as Jon moaned and groaned.

After several minutes, she got a little annoyed with his lack of involvement. She stopped, causing Jon to look at her with crazy eyes.

“Jon, I want to choke on your dick,” Arianne said aggressively, lustfully… honestly. She grabbed his hand and put them on her head.

Jon knew what to do then. She grabbed at her hair with a vice grip and forced her head down, making her take all of his cock and gag on it.

“The balls too, bitch,” Jon ordered, forcing her down more. Arianne moaned and did as he asked.

After so many years, she could deepthroat him so well she barely even choked anymore. But fuck did she love the feeling.

Arianne knew exactly what he would do now. He was in charge of the blowjob now, so she stopped holding her head up, opened her throat, and let Jon do everything. She forced her head up and down fast and hard. She couldn’t help but gag and gasp, but Jon wouldn’t stop. All she could do was release a “gluk gluk” sound from her mouth and drool on her chin and tits.

For several minutes, Jon facefucked her with all the intensity in the world. It was so good, Arianne was dripping on the floor. She arched her back and let Jon see her ass as he gritted his teeth. Finally he came down her throat. As he came, he held her head down as far as possible and Arianne gagged on his cum.

When it was over, she licked him clean and helped him take all his clothes off. They cuddled on the bed.

“How was your day?” Arianne asked.

“Twas fine,” Jon said, “Had to deal with bandits on the way to Nightsong.”

“Ooh,” Ari cooed, “Did you fight them off?”

“Of course,” Jon said.

Arianne smiled lustily. She would have to fuck him even better tonight.

“What about you?” Jon asked.

“I helped prepare for my cousins to come to the Peak. And I received a letter from my mother,” Ari said, “She’s finally coming back.”

“That’s wonderful!” Jon said.

Jon kissed her then, filling her with joy.

Slowly though, that kiss turned more intense. Jon got on top of her, moved her silk cloth and fucked her pussy. Her toes curled at him entry and she moaned as he sucked and bit her nipples.

 

After two hours, they were still in their room, having ordered some fruits and water.

Jon remained naked in bed as Arianne brushed her hair.

“I’m not sure why you wear that,” Jon said, pointing to her outfit, “You’re basically naked already. One gust of wind and all your parts are exposed.”

Arianne gave him an annoyed look. “If you don’t like it, why don’t you just say so?”

“That’s not it,” Jon said, looking sheepish with his answer. Arianne smirked knowingly.

“Are you worried about the men here looking at me?” she asked.

Jon laughed.

_That is strange._

“No, not at all,” Jon said.

“And why is that?” she asked.

“I’ve ordered that any man who looks at you in such a way be thrown in the dungeon,” Jon said seriously.

Arianne paused. Then she chuckled uncontrollably. “My husband is so jealous.”

Jon smiled. “And you aren’t? Don’t you remember when I went to see the Tarlys and I told you about meeting their daughter.”

Arianne remembered well. And she remembered her reaction.

“Oh I remember,” Ari said seriously, walking over to him and placing her finger against his chest, “And don’t you ever let me catch you with her. She’s a dumb cunt with only sand between her legs. And I’ll fight her for you, bare-breasted, and with real swords.”

After several moments the faux-seriousness of the moment disappeared and both Ari and Jon started laughing. They loved playing like this.

“But you do realize you’re wearing a loin cloth,” Jon said.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” Ari said, showing him her back. Then she had a thought. “Jon, when you faced those bandits, did you kill any of them.”

“Aye,” Jon said.

Arianne then dropped her cloth, letting Jon see her plump exposed ass. “I want to reward you. Why don’t we try something different?” She turned and smiled.

Jon all but grabbed her and threw her into the bed, putting her on her stomach. He kissed her neck and placed his cock at her ass and entered her slowly.

 

By morning, Ari had given Jon his blowjob and saw that he enjoyed her pussy as well. But seeing him go about his business made her depressed. She still felt like she was just missing something.

Luckily, her cousins arrived that day.

“Tyene!” Ari cried, holding her cousin tightly. Obara and Nymeria stood nearby, having gotten their hugs.

Tyene, however, didn’t hug back. Ari stopped and looked at her. Tyene looked confused. Then she grabbed Ari’s breast and rubbed her belly.

“Ari,” Tyene started, “Are you pregnant?”


End file.
